Breaking Sunset Blvd
by ChanelBel7887
Summary: Forget all you know about fanfictions, and get ready to experience the ultimate FANfiction! Follow along on the adventure of two best friend’s lifetime as they travel cross country. Their goal? The ‘New Moon’ Premier in Los Angeles, and a chance to mee


_Breaking Sunset Blvd._

By: ChanelBell7887 & BrittniCullen

Chapter 1: **Quit Acting**

"Hello?" my call echoed back from the far walls of an abandoned apartment as I pushed open the heavy door with my only free extremity, a weighted shoulder. The unanswered greeting sent mixed signals of disappointing loneliness, in addition to excitement at the aspect of a free bathroom buzzing through my aching over caffeinated brain. Once again I found it impossible to resist downing an entire pot of coffee, only to stop twenty minutes later on my way to the studio for a double shot ventie. My rigorous caffeine consumption has rattled many a doctor in the past, but the aspect of facing school and work without aid _more _then rattled me. It was a complete impossibility. I have adapted, finding it harmless to leave that tiny nugget of information out of my medical history. I got my coffee, and the doctors can now sleep at night.

Once inside I shut the door behind me with a swift kick of the new purple suede boots I planned on breaking in today. I cursed myself silently for the hundredth time, why did I always wear new shoes to painting class? It never ended well. I knew this, yet I found it painful trying to _not _wear new shoes the first chance I got.

I sighed, dumping the heavy load I juggled in my sore arms while it rained for over seven city blocks onto the closest table I could find. My bag and art supplies scattered across my roommate, Brittni's medical journals.

'A definite improvement.' I assured myself. Now all those disgusting pictures of people's insides were covered with metallic leather and a colorfully decorated art bin.

My placid heart jumped as something brush up against my calf, but seconds later a loving meow forced a smile on my wet face. I knelt down slowly, picking up Luna, our solid black cat. After the verbal bashing I just suffered in class I wanted nothing more then an appreciative snuggle and a soothing hot shower. I placed my cold red nose deep into Luna's soft fur, my deep inhalation sent waves of rolling comfort throughout my body. It smelt of home, a place where pressure didn't exist.

Ball of fluff in hand, I stood. Making my way towards the pot of gold at the end of a horrible day. The racket of my stilettos filled a once silent apartment taking me closer to my beloved bathroom. I almost craved a shower as if it were a high end drug, chilled to the bone with New York City's persistent precipitation. A feeling shared and appreciated by Edward Cullen, the single definition of a perfect man and main character in 'Twilight', Brittni's and my favorite novel. I smiled contemplating this severely morphed and exaggerated comparison while gently placing Luna down and stepping into the wash room.

I gasped in shock as I peered into the mirror for the first time since I'd left home that morning. I groaned, turning my head this way and that finding no relief in my reflection at any angle. My hair had blown up in a scary ball of hectic frizz. How long was I roaming the streets like this?

"Thank you, rain. Round of applause for the cruel brutal force of evil against cosmetology!" in an empty attempt at first aid I ran four humiliated fingers through the once silky waves, combing and patting my way like a sculptor desperately fixing a mutilated David. When I removed my hand, stomach bloated with hope, the hair stayed sticking straight up. A disturbing side effect of all the product I used mixing with humidity.

"Ughh! _So _not Rpattz appropriate!" I muttered, my bad mood returning full swing. But as I stood there, taking in my mess of hair a soft giggle escaped me. The familiar image of Robert Pattinson, my celebrity crush extraordinaire floated before my eyes, looking humorously similar to my current condition.

"What am I talking about?!…. This IS Rpattz!" His dirty golden locks were endlessly analyzed in the public eye as being curiously untidy, and irresistible rolled into one. A look no one has ever pulled off so effortlessly before. My heart swum in a warm pool of goo as I pictures his long, somewhat androgynous digits raking though that lust worthy chaos above his chiseled face.

I forced a pair of grinning lips into my best 'sexy blank expression', one that endlessly plagued his handsome face, and pulled my hair out farther in all sorts of crazy directions.

"Sharon?" Brittni's exhausted voice sounded from across the apartment, rooted in the entranceway I'd just left behind. Like a grinning goof I bounded out into the hallway full of a new energy granted by a looming Spunk joke. I found my best friend peeling off a soaking wet trench, her long legs rain drenched, unprotected by it's length. I noted her neat hair pulled perfectly into a knot at the back of her head, then saw the dripping umbrella leaning against the wall. My brows furrowed as I scolded myself inwardly. I really needed to start watching the evening news with her, in the future hair casualties would be avoided.

As I looked up her subdued eyes met mine, then found the insanity of my hair and lit up. I loved making my friend smile, or better yet laugh. It was one of the few things I could appreciated about myself. My sense of humor never failed her, which I found to be remarkable. We both worked way too hard. Two twenty somethings living in the city, supporting ourselves through school. Our days were plagued with a never ending workload, homework, work-work, workout, etc. Anytime I could, I fought my hardest to bring her day from a ten to a three on the 'suck scale'.

Yet again the aspect of another Rob related joke had her squirming in anticipation, her grin ear to ear. Brittni too was overly interested in all things 'Twilight', but her not so secret lusting was over another cast member, the notoriously smooth Jackson Rathbone. I could understand her attraction, what with his uniquely long curly hair, big blue eyes, and amazingly vast lips. No one faulted her for falling in deep with a 'too cool for school' musician who was a self proclaimed southern gentlemen. Still, the easiest target of the pair would always be Bert, and she appreciated the jokes just the same.

"Cats die you know." I blurted in my best impersonation of a British accent, quoting one of several shocking Pattz lines during countless interviews. Brittni's smile stretched so wide it contaminated her eyes. This quote was a personal favorite, my head light with satisfaction.

"I know that!" she muttered moodily quoting Rob's interview partner, Kristen Stewart as she played along with me.

We'd watched this clip so many times the words flew from our mouths with little thought. "They don't even live that long." I snapped.

She couldn't hold it in any longer, her head flew back as her body shook with quaking laughter. She held no power against a double shot of Rob snap. The combination from my startling hair and Spunk's mind boggling retorts had her tearing.

I started laughing too, almost as powerless as she in the might of Rob's awkward insights. As I hopped over to her, throwing my arms around her body I cried, "Oh Kristen, take ME with you! I can love you better then any wanking cat!"

We both shook now, as she was forced to take a step back from my unexpected impact. Her foot slipped on a forgotten puddle of fallen rain. Her already uncoordinated footing was lost, and like a true friend she pulled me down with her. We landed hard with a muffled thud on the cold tile floor.

"Ugh! Sorry!" she moaned rubbing her now tender butt cheek. I laughed, showing her I wasn't upset to fill the roll of her fellow crash dummy, and I certainly wasn't finished with the joke.

"Yes! Yes, Kristen! Finally you've woken up and seen the light that is me, Robert Pattinson. Your awkward and mumbling admirer!" I threw my leg over her and pulled her closer to me. A move Rob would never actually make in reality. He was too self conscious, too introverted to ever blurt out his most sensitive feelings. Despite my outgoing and carefree personality it was a trait we secretly shared. At night I often speculated how he even came to gain past love interests, certainly the girls had to have worn the pants in the relationship. Those suppositions only seemed to intrigue me more.

She pushed away from me laughing, freeing herself from my tight grasp and sat up. Her chuckles cut off suddenly.

"Sharon!" she yelled. I sat up quickly throwing glances all around the room trying to find what caused this one-eighty in her mood. I found nothing worthy of a brutal ending to a joke I was far from finishing.

"Why do you ALWAYS wear your new shoes to painting class?!" she whined. "I've told you a MILLION times that it's a bad idea!" Her back slouched as her face fell back into a sad mourning. "Now what am I going to wear to my audition tomorrow?"

I smiled and kicked off the troublesome boots, using my hot pink toes to push Brittni's disappointment under the table. "Don't worry, I have _loads _of things to go with that outfit I picked out for you."

"Of course you do, Hun." Brittni muttered in a sarcastic tone, rolling her eyes and smiling as she pushed herself off the floor. She offered her hand to me and I took it allowing myself to be yanked smoothly into a standing position.

Brittni's eyes closed lazily as her back curled, stretching her arms high above her head.

"I am _so _tired." she whispered to herself.

"I had to sit through the most boring lecture today. I had, like… _twenty _separate daydreams about Rob, and Jackson, then about Rob _and _Jackson… and about Rob, Jackson _and _Peter." I watched as her lips turned into a smirk and dirty thoughts filled her head causing her green eyes to blur out of focus.

I laughed coldly, dragging her back into reality. "Lucky you." I sneered weighed down in an unpleasant memory. "It's hard to get in a sexy state of mind with a seventy year old woman posing nude three feet away."

I bent over, yanking the fresh painting from my portfolio and showing it to her before both wincing at the unpleasant site.

"Yeah, sorry Hun, that's rough." she held the painting far from her body, arms out strait as if she worried the age could contaminate her.

" I know." I hummed. I spared Brittni's imagination, leaving out the fact she wasn't the most unattractive thing that's ever modeled in one of my art classes. "Then my professor tore my technique to shreds in front of everyone, and wouldn't get off my back when he asked us to name our work." She looked at me with a curious frown, waited for me to continue.

"Why? What did you name it?" She took the painting from me, now studying it closer. Looking past the old woman, into the detail of my strokes.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Hailey."

I could hardly resist a devilish smirk, our eyes locked before a new fit of howling laughter filled the room.

Hailey was the lead singer of a band we lovingly renamed 'Para-whore'. Her band featured a song in the 'Twilight' movie, apparently effecting it's dramatic rise to popularity. After the two's connection, Brittni and I immediately sought out a sampling of their pieces, growing horrified but what we found. We'd both expected more from the band representing our shared favorite. Worse yet, the petite flaming haired singer was a known criminal in the shameless hunt of Robert flirting. My blood almost curdled in it's veins after the disastrous dialect between the two during an intimate interview. Violent flags of jealousy warnings were erected, and a passionate dislike cemented.

"My professor kept chanting about how the name of a painting should run deep into it's pores." My face scrunched up in obvious distaste. "My name does have a deep pored meaning." I mumbled softly, "I just didn't feel like explaining it to the whole class."

Brittni offered a reassuring smile and encouraging words.

"No seriously, Sharon. This is really amazing." I rolled my eyes appreciating her compliment more then I'd ever let on.

"You always say that, besides, I messed up on her left leg." I frowned down at the small area of muddied paint drying over five attempts to perfect a patch of shading. It was physically impossible for me to make a piece without a mistake somewhere. Not one of my creations allowed me that peace of mind.

"And it's always true."

I smiled at the awkward feeling in my stomach without looking up from my obvious mistake. I was never good with praise of any sort, even from this girl I considered to be the sister to my soul. The most similar and caring friend I've ever had, or could ever ask for. The person who knew me deeper then any of my biological sisters. The self titled clone of my DNA. She took my good with the bad, preferring my presence over others, mistakes and all. Her friendship was the most priceless accessory in my closet, the Pucci sunglasses coming in a close second.

"Thanks" I smiled meekly at her genuine compliment while I pulled the assignment from her fingers and placed it back into the safety of my portfolio.

My body moved uneasily in the foreign tension that didn't often fill our home. I ached to settle back into the familiar airiness of humor, more natural to our relationship.

Brittni detected the mood and decided to be proactive.

"Alright, I'm freezing. I'm going to take a shower-"

My mouth formed an incredulous 'o' before I cut her off. There was no way I'd allow my day of getting beat down to be topped with a stolen shower.

"No way, Woman! I was already in there! You distracted me, that's a foul!"

I moved quickly, skillfully slipping past Brittni's slim body, starting in a sprint toward the coveted room. Thinking offensively I grabbed my shirt and pulled it hap-hazardously over my head. My stomach quickly covered in a sheet of goose bumps only protected from the cold air by a lacy bra. I threw it over my back praying to Oprah it might land in her face or cause her to trip.

It was a no go.

The pounding of her feet behind me held a steady rhythm, I dare not look back.

A blunt force suddenly pushed me sideways giving her access to gain the lead.

"DAMN YOU TO VOLTURI!!!" I screeched.

Quit was a four letter word, one that Brittni and I both couldn't ever recognize.

Somehow Brittni's skirt was on the ground a step ahead of me, but I cleared the hurdle and snuck around her on the far corner just before I reached the bathroom doorway.

"HA!" I yelled in fierce victory as I blocked the door with the extra length of my arms and legs.

Brittni was fuming. Both our chest pumping up and down trying to catch our breaths while remaining poise. Her face mutated into a twisted scowl, her words deep and slow. Meaningful in the most cutting of ways.

Literally.

"Robert Pattinson shaved his head." The sneer in her voice penetrating my cocky stance, a knife slicing though paper.

My world spun, colors mixing together, shapes blurring. My breath came in ragged drags as I pictured the most beautiful man after an insane hair dresser finished raping his luscious locks. A cold sweat covered my entire body in seconds, swaying dangerously in place.

"No…" I whispered, but the sound of the words didn't reach my ears.

A pulling sensation on my upper arm reigned my focus back in.

Outlines solidified, and the world stood in place. I wasn't standing in the doorway any longer. I now hovered just outside it. I turned trying to find Brittni, a knowing anger growling from the depths of my stomach finding her standing in nothing but panties and a bra, smiling in the middle of our empty tub.

It took my slow mind a minute to put the pieces together, then I knew. She had used the hair update as a distraction tool. How very underhanded of her.

I couldn't stay mad, if I was honest I knew I would have done the same thing. But that didn't mean I couldn't be a sore loser.

I shoved my fists to my hips violently.

My eyes narrowed as I plopped down on the toilette to wait my turn for a hot shower in a two year old worthy tantrum.

"You play dirty, Woman." I grumbled in a low, accusing voice.

She turned the water nozzle on and closed the curtain before throwing over her intimates.

"Only as dirty as Rob's hair."

__________________________________________________________________________________

"Ughh!" my already limited patience had been picked away in large pieces all evening. I threw my tired nub of compressed charcoal in the general direction of Luna where she was currently repositioning herself into a new pose without my permission.

Had she always so restless?

I yanked the half-finished drawing of her out from my newsprint pad and started scratching a new outline of her latest posture.

"No wonder animal pieces are so hard to come by in the art world. They're worse then children." The uncharacteristic words of animosity made my lips curl, the dark mood from restarting my homework suddenly resolving. I plopped my pad onto my stomach and laid my head down to relax with the rest of my body sprawled out over the length of the couch.

"I hate children." I grumbled in my pathetic British accent, my eyes closed as I waited for Brittni to finish Robert Pattinson's epic reveal. This specific interview answer stunned many a fan girl as he came clean about his cold absence of paternity.

As you can tell we did this almost constantly. Having said or heard something ringing of familiarity to a sequence from a Robert Pattinson, Jackson Rathbone, or Peter Facinelli interview, we would then impersonate them guaranteeing a laugh. A little mood lift never hurt around here.

There was no response, not even a laugh. I frowned and twisted around on the cushions, tipping my book over onto the ground. I found Brittni right where I left her an hour ago, sitting Indian style over a pile of scripts and notices. Her eyes shut tight, lips moving quickly, not uttering a sound.

I smiled, admiring her constant work ethic with a mixture of pride and humor. She drove herself crazy over every detail of life, never taking the easy road. She earned everything she had in her life and deserved twice as much. I stretched my arm out over the couch and grabbed one of many the many scripts she wasn't looking at.

My eyes skimmed the dialog leaving me perplexed. I closed the booklet, reading the title to better understand.

My heart sank. Why did she _constantly _degrade herself like this?

She thought no better of herself then a doormat. Her sense of self caused me physical pain, and I couldn't take it anymore.

"Brittni! This is a _deodorant _commercial?!" I crawled over the arm rest and sat down next to her as she finally opened her eyes.

"I thought we weren't going to do commercials anymore. They are like SO below you." My eyes searched her face, dragging up the ever present doubt.

Her face was emotionless. Eyes dull and tired. I hated seeing her like this, as if every move she made was meaningless to her. Not meant for personal satisfaction or to grow closer to a happy and fulfilling life, but merely the next step she _should _take. The right step. The step right before the next …or after the last. To her they all felt the same.

She broke her silence with a heavy sigh.

"It's commercials or I start working at Theisen's again. I have to come up with half the rent somehow and med school really isn't helping with that." I stared at her without an answer. These types of dilemmas never really had a proper answer. How do you drop obligation, seize paying for food to eat, and a roof over your head? But how can you live a life you hate _just _to support yourself?

Sometimes when she got this overworked I saw the brilliance in her eyes dull. It's starting to happen more and more. It scared me to think what could happen if I wasn't here to throw her a life jacket. What would happen to her if I never pulled her out from this pile of obligation.

Would the lights go out entirely?

I shook with an eerie chill crawling up my spine at the thought.

I swallowed dryly, putting my mind into a temporary ease. I would always be here for her. I knew that with all my heart. Brittni's luminosity will never fail.

"It's just… why can't you try out for that new series? If you don't get it _then _try out for the commercial. You have to at least _try_."

"Look, I would love to try out for that role, to be recognized as an actual talent. But the auditions are at the same time, and I'm just being honest with myself. I can admit I have a way better chance of getting cast in a commercial then in a prime time drama."

I saw in her edgy shifting, Brittni's mind was made up. No matter how much I wanted to argue I knew it would be to no avail. In some ways I wish we weren't so similar, arguments between the two of us were never ending, both too stubborn to give in.

I didn't want this argument to drag on and bring down both our moods.

I took in the sight of my closest friend knowing we both wanted more to life then a two bedroom apartment and 9 to 5 jobs to look forward to. My stomach lurched. She was killing herself every day, and for what? What was I killing myself for? Brittni had too many goals, I had none. Her unattainable future was the same torturing poison as the uncertain road I faced every morning.

Brittni was terrified to let herself down. I let myself down everyday.

What kind of life was this?

I turned from her while she buried a frustrated head in her knees. My reflection caught in the smooth glass of our coffee table. My own eyes startled me. They were one of the many scary similarities we shared, the exact same shade of green. We also shared a staggering height of five foot ten and a half inches, our long brown hair, clothing size, the odd fact of not learning to a ride a bike until we were in the fifth grade, and a sad dis-attachment to our families. We were each other's family.

I cared about Brittni more then her mother ever could. I knew from the unease in my stomach. Her pain was my own. My pain, well, that was mine as well. I wasn't as generous with my emotion. In fact I was down right greedy.

Our differences were small compared to our almost freakish similarities. Brittni tried harder to get what she wanted. She expressed her pain more openly to me, which I always coddled and tried my best to fix. I trusted her, but had never been that open with every day crisis.

I watched as my reflection ran it's shaking finger under the dominating dark circles below my eyes. Never in all my friendship with Brittni had I seen the same fading of light in my eye's irises. I was bubbly and superficial, but I wasn't ignorant. I knew life was hard, for some it was a never ending struggle. Taking endless classes towards a major you cared nothing about was tedious. Working thirty hours a week in a dead end job was a step down from electrocution. Still, I found it difficult to believe my soul was really in this much trouble.

When I was younger, naive, I wondered how people got to the stage in life where they found themselves stepping through the same routine everyday in a sleepwalk , not seeing what was happening? Why couldn't they shake themselves free of their unhappy lives? I thought it was ridiculous and stupid.

Really, it was me being stupid.

We both were.

We were there. The two of us, sleepwalkers!

I turned to my friend, still resting her head in a knot of leggy limbs.

"Wakeup!" I yelled franticly.

Brittni jumped, her head popping up, reminding me of a jack in the box. Her eyes alive with angered confusion.

"I wasn't sleeping!" she protested, her glare frenzied, awaiting further explanation.

I stoop up, suddenly I was antsy. The blood in my veins burned. I couldn't fit in my skin.

I needed to move, I wanted to get out and live.

It was a non thought, my hectic pacing. The heaving of my terrified, furious chest.

Her eyes followed me.

"No." I cried in a nasal whimper, a sound from the begging of my imprisoned spirit. "I mean _really _wake up!" I stopped mid-step, turning curtly to penetrate her stare with my own. "What are we doing here Brittni?!"

She hadn't a clue to the reasoning of my outburst, but sensing the rising anxiety in my voice she stood, slowly becoming level with me.

"We both hate our lives, and what's worse is we're fooling ourselves into thinking we're happy!"

My friend's face morphed from worry to shocked offense. "We don't hate our _lives_, just our current situations." she explained, trying to bring hope into hell.

I threw my head back and groaned loudly. She was more far gone then I feared. I had to save us. I straightened my posture and looked her straight in the eye. "You go to class for hours and daydream half the time, then either work for a perv. boss in retail, or solicit your amazing talent for low budget advertisement!" I studied her, taking in every change of emotion. She knew I was right, on some level a cry was sounding within her. I saw it in the desperation of her eyes.

I continued, it was imperative to make her see the truth.

"And all I want to do is get into the MOMA fellowship and marry Robert flipping Pattinon, but NO!" My eyes widened mocking my mother's horrified face after telling her my plans to try and get my work into the Museum of Modern Art after graduating from RSD. "I can't be an _artist_! I have to have a job that makes a secure living!"

I turned away from Brittni, not for her relief, but for my own. This was the first time I'd ever blown up in front of her. My limit reached, I cursed and kicked the table causing Luna to jump and scurry from the suddenly loud and threatening room.

"Sharon, what's going on?" I felt the weight of Brittni's hand on my shoulder.

I pulled away.

I continued pacing until I met the opposite end of the living room. I was never comfortable exposing my emotions, I felt defeated and vulnerable.

I couldn't turn to face her, but this lie had to stop.

"I can't do this anymore, Brittz."

A silent tear dragged down my hot cheek bone. I wiped it away, erasing it's existence from anyone but myself.

"It's killing us both to live like this. Something has to change." My words were no longer shaking with fright, but strong. Absolute.

"Okay." I felt no guilt from Brittni's soft resignation. Like me she had a powerful perception of sense. I was proud of how willing she was to follow my lead. She trusted me.

"I really do hate commercials." she whispered more to herself.

"And pervo bosses staring at your chest." I added turning around to catch the smile on her lips.

"So what are we going to do?" She was serious again., never capable of fully abandoning responsibility.

"Um…" My eyes move franticly about the room trying to stall. I didn't want to scare her in my lack of preparation.

All I knew was what my body was telling me. My legs itched in restlessness. The answer could possibly be a trip to somewhere we've never been. Maybe search for inspiration to reawaken our creative souls. We had to get out, desperately needing to break the surface of unrecognizable death, take in our gasping first breath of fresh air.

I wanted to _feel _again, I hungered for it.

My roaming eyes landed on one of the several magazines bursting with headlines of 'Twilight' and Robert Pattinson. The newest movie, 'New Moon' was premiering in a week in California. I smiled remembering how excited we'd both been about the upcoming film. We gushed about how we wanted to get tickets to the premier and meet our crushes.

My heart fluttered in approval of this forgotten idea.

_Excitement_.

I drew in a sharp breath as my eyes widened with the glow of a light bulb coming alive. I glowed.

"When was the last time you were excited, really _excited _about something?" I demanded of Brittni.

I hurriedly walked over to the magazine, leaning down and picking it up.

"Uhh… I guess I can't remember." She looked at the wall in thought. "How pathetic is that?" Her eyes met mine, pleading for an answer to the question she never thought to ask.

I squealed and pulled her arm, dragging her down onto the couch with me. I shoved the image of Robert, Peter, Kristen, and Jackson in her face.

"Oh yeah, I was excited about the movie." She looked down at the cover with obvious disappointment. Her thoughts jumping to assumptions of my intension. She knew I was capable of more then a movie.

"No, forget the theater." I gushed. "We're going!" She looked up, confused again.

"Going where?"

"To LA! We're going to the premier!"

"What?!" She sounded upset, but her eyes were smiling with the newly kindled idea.

"You and I," I took her hand and found it shaking like mine. "Are going to take a road trip." I spelt out the details I knew she craved to know. "We are going to find ourselves again."

My heart melted as she threw her hands in the air, freeing herself from our invisible prison, finally letting go.

"I want to find myself." she urged softly, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I want to find Rob." I added. We both laughed, the tension rushing away like the air from a balloon.

_And just like that, the decision was made. Two best friends from the greater metropolitan area were throwing caution to the wind, packing their bags, and hopping the first bus out of town. _

_A piece of advice from someone who knows these girls; to a Mister Jackson Rathbone, and a Master Robert Pattinson; two words, prepare yourselves. _

**AN - **

**Sorry for the lengthiness of this AN, but it's been a while. First off, to my 'Starved' groupies - I am SO SORRY for how long it's been. If I've told you once, I've told you a shit load of times. I WILL NEVER QUIT THAT STORY. I have a new job and my life is hectic. I've had the idea of this (and I use air quotes, "FANfiction" for a REALLY long time and I HAD to get it up. But fear not! I think I will have time to get chapter 3... What chapter am I on?!…**

**Yeah, I really need to UD. Just please know I am thinking about it, and am UBER guilty. **

**Ok - now about BSB. I wanna hear what you think? This story WILL be way more chill and FUNNY then Starved. I know it is intense right now, but I had to create motivation for them to do this crazy thing. Believe me, the trip there, and the premier will have you in tears. (laughing tears)**

**I know this is WAY having nothing to do with Twilight. But let's face it. Once a Twilight fan girl, Always a Robert / Jackson / Peter fan girl.**

**I hope you all don't go crazy on me and blast us with comments about unhealthy obsession and the diff between fantasy and reality. WE GET IT. This story is just a guilty pleasure that we want to offer you and make you giggle.**

**Oh, and if you are wondering, I REALLY did have to paint a nude 70 year old woman once. **

**I still get shivers when I think about it. **

**AND, we really do hate Paramore. I heard some of their stuff before the movie and I didn't like their sound. Then after the whole "you say 'here' weird" incident I was a true hater. **

**Sry Parawhore fans. We still love YOU! **

**(if you don't get any of the Rob or Jackson jokes please let us know. They are all common footage of the Twilight cast :) We'd be happy to send you the links :)**

**WHAT DO YOU THINK?! REVOLUTIONARY?!?! **


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